


What Desperation Accomplishes

by remanth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15.20 denial, Dean Reciprocates, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Fix It Fic, M/M, Saileen - Freeform, human!Cas, mostly - Freeform, post 15.19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remanth/pseuds/remanth
Summary: Dean searches for a way to rescue Cas from the Empty. And then he finally finds a possible way to do it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76





	What Desperation Accomplishes

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my third and final fix it fic. I finished season 15 before writing this and am even angrier at 15.20. (there is a full rewrite in its future). This is one of the ways I've seen kicking around for Cas getting out of the Empty and this is my take on it.

It had been a month since they’d defeated Chuck once and for all. One month since Cas had sacrificed himself for Dean. Again. One month since Jack had absorbed Chuck’s power and disappeared to go run the universe. Or something. 

One month and Dean was getting desperate.

He had a plan. Really. He did. But that plan could basically be summed up in three words: Get. Cas. Back. And, well, anything else was details. Those were the important words. With all the frantic research he’d been doing, with Sam and Eileen’s help, he’d started putting together the barest edges of a full plan. Granted, it was mostly him doing the research. Sam and Eileen were often doing their own thing, spending time with each other. It was something Dean didn’t begrudge either of them. Losing the person you loved hurt like nothing else. For Sam to get Eileen back? That was one of the best miracles Jack had given them.

But no matter how much Dean wanted to, something stopped him from praying to Jack to get Cas back. If Jack had been able to get him out of the Empty, wouldn’t he have? Wouldn’t Cas have been waiting here in the bunker with Eileen if Jack had been able to get him out? After Cas’s confession, Dean couldn’t imagine anywhere else Cas would go. Even the apocalypse world hunters had been brought back. Charlie had helped with some long distance research but there was only so much she could do. The bulk of the information Dean was looking for, if it existed at all, was likely right here in the bunker.

So, Dean had reasoned, it was up to him to get Cas back. Jack couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do it for whatever reason. Maybe he just didn’t know how. Maybe absorbing Chuck’s power didn’t give him all of Chuck’s knowledge with it. After all, the kid was only three, much as he might look like he was in his twenties.

But now, Dean felt the first stirrings of hope to go along with the desperation. Day 31 and he was combing through a very old book in one of the dusty storage rooms. It had been stored in a box with a few other books and some artifacts. Though Dean hadn’t paid any attention to the other items after scanning the titles of the books. This book had seemed most likely to be helpful so he’d started with it. The first half of the book was devoted to some pompous-sounding prose, mostly the writer congratulating themselves on the trials and tribulations they’d suffered gathering the information for and putting together this book. There were teasing hints here and there that kept Dean skimming quickly rather than tossing the book back into the box.

There it was. A little over halfway through the book, once the writer had finished tooting their own horn. It was written as a parable and the writer had mentioned they’d gotten the story from an old beggar everyone around her had claimed was mad. She claimed she was given visions. This story, or so she claimed, came from an entity that was given a task by God. Its duty was to hold that which died that had nowhere else to go.

His heartbeat picked up in his chest and Dean forced himself to stop reading for a moment. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t make out any of the words. Running one hand through his hair, Dean took several deep breaths. This could be another dead end. Look at all the dead ends he’d already worked his way to in this research. It might not even be the Empty the beggar was referring to. And even if it was, it might just be a story that held no help for him. He could hope, yes, but it had to be tempered by the knowledge that this might not help him.

Once he could hold his hands steady, though his heart thumped hard against his ribs, Dean picked up the book again. He read the story carefully, slowly. It was about a dark entity, dark because it held no color or shape or solid form, who was a final resting place for God’s first children. Whenever an angel, or a demon, died, it was sent to this entity’s realm of nothingness. There, they slept and were given time to ponder their mistakes that led to them dying. Which sounded exactly like the Empty. This was what he was looking for. Dean started reading a little faster, hoping for something, _anything_ , that might help. Then, near the end of the story, his breath stopped.

 _Now, as she neared the end of her recitation,_ the writer wrote _she started to giggle. For a few moments, all I could get from her was a few nonsense words and those giggles. I steeled my patience, curious about the end of this little story. Was there some sort of moral?  
When she caught her breath again, the woman leaned close to me. Her grimy teeth didn’t exactly shine in the conspiratorial grin she gave me but they were clearly visible. I held my breath, politely not leaning away. She had been on the street a long time and it seemed had not been able to keep up with hygiene.  
“You want to know the best part?” she murmured to me. Her eyes darted around, taking in the other beggars clustered in the alley. None seemed to care in the slightest about her story and there were no passers-by at this moment. “Want to know the secret God entrusted to me?”  
“Of course, if you can share it,” I replied. My pen was poised above my journal, the page half-filled with my own shorthand. “What is the secret?”  
She giggled again, sounding oddly young, before leaning even closer and whispering in my ear, “One can go to the entity’s realm. And one can escape. Should one make a huge sacrifice.”  
She repeated sacrifice a few times, giggling between each. I wrote down the words dutifully though I was confused. Was I to believe this was a real place? Everything I’d researched so far told me there were only four realms: the Earthly plane, Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. Each had their denizens, with humans able to choose where their soul ended through their actions while on Earth. Nothing about a dark entity and a realm of nothing. But still, the scholar in me demanded all the information she might have.  
“How might one gain entry to this realm. Without dying?” I asked dryly.   
I didn’t expect an answer and I didn’t really get one. Instead, she sang nonsense syllables. Yet, they were oddly rhythmic, almost a language. It was none I recognized and I prided myself on knowledge of many languages and, at the very least, how many others sounded. I recorded the syllables below, writing them phonetically as I could not get her to spell them. Each time I asked, she merely repeated the syllables and giggled.  
Satisfied that I’d gotten all the information the woman held, I handed her a few coins and left. Perhaps it was a parable. Perhaps it was something more, something I do not have the knowledge to understand. But everything she told me has been recorded dutifully here._

Dean read the two lines written below the last paragraph of this chapter. They were all by themselves, as if arranged as a couplet. They appeared to be nonsense at first glance and Dean’s heart sank. Until he read them through again. They were familiar, somehow. A third time and he was starting to get the shape of the language. It was Enochian, but almost an archaic version compared to the few times he’d heard Cas speak it. It was a spell. It was the spell he needed. A fourth time and a plan formed in his mind.

Were there holes? Sure. Like how was he going to find Cas once he got there, how was he going to deal with the Empty, would the spell get them back, and, if not, how do they get back? But, well, fuck it. It was Cas and this was the first decent chance Dean had of rescuing him. He was grabbing it with both hands and not letting go.

As for when, right now seemed pretty damn good. Sam and Eileen were on a date. For once, no hunts were on the horizon. Everything was pretty normal, for them. So Dean had the bunker to himself, though Eileen had signed to him before they left to call them if he needed them. There was no way Dean was going to interrupt them, though. Not when they were getting a slice of happiness. Besides, he kind of wanted to do this himself. For himself and for Cas.

Ater making sure the books and artifacts were back in the box, Dean closed it up and set it back in its place on the shelves. Then, he tucked the important book under one arm and left the room. He paced the bunker for a few minutes, trying to find the best place to attempt the spell. The story didn’t say anything about ingredients or special locations. It seemed all he needed was the words.

Finally, Dean stopped outside the storage closet/dungeon he and Cas had run to while escaping Billie. He stood there for a few long moments, one hand on the doorknob. He’d tried to go into this room once after they’d come back victorious. He’d stood in the open doorway, staring at the empty space Cas had stood. There’d been an agonizing pain in his chest and he’d rubbed at it ineffectually before slowly closing the door and walking away. That had been the first of many nights he’d found his way to the bottom of a bottle in order to sleep.

Now, that pain was still there but hope burned alongside it. Now, there was a chance to make that pain disappear. Dean took a deep breath, bowing his head in a quick moment of not-quite-prayer. Every night, before crawling into a bottle, he prayed to Cas. Every night, he promised to get him back. He promised it again, here and now, and pushed the door open.

The room looked the same. They hadn’t had any guests and none of them had needed anything stored in here. In his memory, Dean saw Cas standing in front of him while the Empty appeared on the wall behind him. Saw Cas smiling at him. Heard those three words again. Saw the Empty enveloping Cas, who had that peaceful expression on his face. Heard his sobs as he realized Cas was really gone.

Dean shook his head sharply, dispelling the echoes of his crying. It was time to do something about the Empty taking Cas. He glanced around the room, trying to decide where to stand. In the open? Or against the wall? There wasn’t much in the story about getting to the Empty’s realm. Just the little tidbit about getting in and making a sacrifice if one wanted to get out. Finally, shrugging, Dean moved to stand by the wall where the Empty had appeared. Stood to reason the entity had come into the world here so it might be easier to get to its realm from here.

Taking one last deep breath, not letting himself think too hard about what he was planning to do, Dean opened the book to the end of the beggar’s story. His fingers brushed over the butt of his gun, reassuring him that he wasn’t defenseless. If guns even worked on something like the Empty. Then, slowly and carefully, he read the words.

Nothing.

Dean looked around, eyes narrowing. He was as sure as he could be that he’d pronounced the words correctly. Enochian had some different pronunciations than he was used to but he’d made a point to learn to speak it since finding out angels were real years ago. Maybe he needed to read it again?

He read it through a second time, staring hard at the words on the page. This had to work, right? This was the closest he’d gotten in far too long. Surely reading them a second time would get him into the Empty’s realm? But as Dean came to the end of the words, nothing at all happened in the room. For a few seconds, silence reigned. Then, the ventilation kicked on with a thump and Dean jumped.

Running a hand through his hair again, Dean glared at the words on the page then at the wall. Part of him was sure he’d just gone on a fool’s errand and that this wasn’t going to work. But the greater part of him wasn’t ready to give up on Cas yet. No. This had to work. It had to.

“One more time,” Dean muttered, frustration in his voice. “C’mon, just give me this.”

Pausing to read silently through the words, Dean made sure he had the correct pronunciations prepared. It was a short couplet. It seemed so odd to him that something so small and innocuous on the page could be the answer to the only prayer that had been on his lips for a month. Then, Dean read through the Enochian a third and final time.

A heartbeat passed after the last syllable left Dean’s lips. Before he could turn away in disgust, expecting nothing to happen again, a rip appeared on the wall. It was like the rip that led to the alternate dimensions only pure black instead of glowing orange-gold. It spread from the point on the wall Dean had seen the Empty appear. It stopped once the rip was about six and a half feet long. 

A grin stretched his lips back from his teeth as Dean closed the book and set it on the chair in the middle of the devil’s trap. Then, without hesitation or a backward glance, Dean stepped through the tear into the Empty’s realm.

For a moment, Dean was terrified he’d gone blind. All he could see was darkness. There was no depth and his breaths barely travelled past his mouth before the sound died. Everything was muffled like he was wrapped in wool. It was only when he waved a hand in front of his face that Dean realized he wasn’t actually blind. Well, this was certainly a realm of nothingness. Now to find Cas.

Picking a direction at random, since every one looked just like every other one, Dean started walking. He tried calling out a few times, but the sound was swallowed. Plus, from the enveloping darkness, a few worrisome rustlings seemed to be pacing him. It was nothing he could name nor could he pinpoint a direction the rustlings were coming from. So he walked in silence, praying desperately to Cas in his head.

Some time later, Dean couldn’t say how long as there was no way to tell time here, the small hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stood up. He rubbed his neck, surreptitiously glancing around. The rustlings came and went but, so far, nothing had approached him. Still, that sensation on his neck and a cold chill in his belly told him he was being watched. Maybe one of the angels or demons who resided here or even the Empty itself. He walked a little faster, still praying desperately. He hadn’t come across anything or anyone here but he couldn’t give up on Cas. He had to find him.

But it wasn’t to be. What felt like a few minutes later, but could have been an hour or a day or even a month, Dean felt a tugging around his middle. He pressed a hand to his chest in confusion. What was going on? Was something attacking him? Before he could take stock of his surroundings, not that anything was really changing, he felt like he was tugged backwards. The breath left him in a rush as he was thrown back through the rip and into the storage room. He stumbled and caught himself on the chair. The book threatened to fall off but he caught it. It was too precious to lose.

As he looked up, preparing himself to go through the rip again, it shrank into itself and disappeared. Huffing out a breath, Dean couldn’t help the relieved smile or quiet chuckle that escaped him. He hadn’t found Cas yet but he would keep searching until he did. He had a way in now.

~*~*~*~

A week later and Dean still hadn’t found Cas. He’d lost count of the trips he’d taken into the Empty’s realm. To be fair, he wasn’t really counting them in the first place. Each time he went in, he picked a direction and ran, praying to Cas the whole time. Nothing but darkness and muffled silence met him though, each time, he felt someone or something watching him. But whatever it was seemed content to watch. It hadn’t messed with him.

By now, Dean had to admit that he needed some help. So, holding the book with the spell in it, he went to find Sam and Eileen. They were in the kitchen, making lunch and being disgustingly domestic about it. Dean smiled when Eileen hip-checked Sam and signed something at him that Dean couldn’t quite make out. Sam laughed and shook his head, throwing a chip at her. She caught it, winked at him, and ate it.

“Hate to break this up,” Dean said, waiting until Eileen looked at him to continue, “but I need some help.”

“Sure,” Sam said, signing at the same time. “What with?”

“I found a way to get to Cas,” Dean explained, waving the book. “But I can’t find him in the Empty’s realm.”

“Wait,” Sam said slowly, his hands dropping to his sides as he forgot to sign due to his rising anger. “You... you _went_ into the Empty without telling us? What the hell, Dean? What if you couldn’t get back? What if something killed you there?”

Dean weathered Sam’s anger, letting his little brother vent for a minute or so. Eileen caught his eyes and signed “You’re an idiot” at him before looking back at Sam to read his lips. Yeah, they really were a good match for each other. When Sam started to repeat himself, Dean raised a hand to cut him off.

“Yes, it was dumb. Yes, I should have told you,” Dean said. “But I didn’t. So can you help me? Do some kind of spell or something that helps me find Cas? Or something?”

Sam closed his mouth with a snap and huffed out an angry breath. He looked at Eileen and they held a quick, silent conversation. At the end of it, Eileen shrugged. Sam huffed out another breath and shook his head.

“Maybe?” he hazarded. “Let me go look through some stuff, do a little research. There might be something I can put together.”

While Dean waited in the kitchen, nervously fiddling with the book, Eileen finished putting together her sandwich. Then she made one for Dean. He didn’t notice until she bumped the plate into his arm. He looked at the plate then at Eileen, cocking an eyebrow.

“You need to eat so you can be ready when Sam comes back with something,” Eileen explained. She gestured at the sandwich and ate another chip as if to coax Dean into eating too. “When’s the last time you ate anything?”

“I don’t know,” Dean shrugged. His stomach grumbled and he reached for the sandwich. “Guess I could eat.”

They ate in companionable silence, Dean touching the book every once in a while to make sure it was still there. When they were done, they lingered in the kitchen by common consent. Dean made a pot of coffee, giving Eileen a mug and the sugar he’d learned she liked in hers. Dean drank his slowly, nursing it as long as he could. Finally, when he was on the edge of charging after Sam and demanding answers, Sam came back into the kitchen. He was holding a book and had a hopeful expression on his face. Though, there was a shadow of doubt in his eyes.

“You got something?” Dean asked. “Can you do it?”

“I mean, yeah, there’s a spell to help locate someone,” Sam said, dropping the book on the counter and pointing at the relevant passages. “Works kinda like a lodestone, homing in on the person.”

“That’s great,” Dean said and clapped his hands together once. “Let’s get with the magic then. What do we need?”

“That’s the thing,” Sam replied, looking at Eileen. She nodded at him encouragingly. “Look, we have nearly all the ingredients right here. It’s pretty simple, magic-wise.”

“Nearly?” Dean repeated, standing up and staring down at the book. “What are we missing, Sammy? Spit it out.”

“We need some of Cas,” Sam explained, pointing again at the book. “To make the lodestone work.”

“Something of Cas’s?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes as he thought. “Well, the trenchcoat would work well but he was wearing the damn thing. I think there’s some clothes of his in his room. Hasn’t worn them in a while, though. Think they’d still work?”

“Not something of Cas’s. Some _of_ Cas,” Sam repeated. He pulled the book closer to him and read, “Finally, you need a piece of the person you are looking for. Hair, skin, fingernails, saliva, blood, bone. It needs to be a piece of them in order for the spell to latch onto them.”

He looked up at Dean, his eyes going dark with sympathy. Putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder, Sam continued, “I don’t have anything of Cas, Dean. No grace, no feathers, no hair, nothing. Without that, I can’t make this spell work. And it’s the only one I’ve found that I think has a chance of working.”

 _Blood_.

As Sam continued to try to console him, going through the spell and explaining every little detail, Dean let the words wash over him in a senseless torrent. _Sam_ may not have anything that would make the spell work. But Dean... oh, Dean _did_. The longer he stayed silent, the more Sam talked. Eileen even joined him, patting Dean’s arm in support.

“We can do it,” Dean finally said, interrupting the second time Sam started reciting the spell. “Get everything together. I’ll get you the last piece.”

“Dean...,” Sam started to argue but Dean walked away before he could get more than his name out. The last Dean heard was Eileen saying, “Let’s just get the spell together. Maybe he really does have something.”

While Dean didn’t run to his room, he didn’t dawdle either. His room had mostly become a physical representation of his grief. There were empty bottles littered over the desk and spilling onto the floor. There were a few half-empty mugs of stone cold coffee, evidence of the few times Sam had brought him some. Next to the bottles on the desk was a messy stack of papers that contained the sum total of Dean’s research before finding the book. Clothes were strewn about the room and the covers were haphazardly pulled over the bed. Only the nightstand on the right side of the bed was clean and empty. In short, it was a mess.

The only other fairly clean point in the room was the chair that had a green jacket with a bloody handprint on the left shoulder draped over the back.

Dean stopped in front of the chair and stared down at the bloody handprint. It was in the same place as the brand Cas had left on his shoulder when he’d pulled him out of Hell. It was all Dean had left of the angel who loved him. The day after they’d come back to the bunker, victorious, Dean had balled up the jacket and thrown it in the corner, unable to look at it. The next day, he picked up the jacket, smoothed it out gently, and draped it over the chair. Then he’d turned the chair so that he could see it from his bed. The handprint was the last thing he saw before passing out at night and the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning. And now, that handprint would help him find Cas.

Reverently, gently, Dean picked up the jacket. He cradled it to his chest for a moment, staring down at the blood. Then he left the room to go find Sam. He and Eileen were in the map room, having taken one of the tables to set up the spell. As Dean walked up and took a seat at the table, Sam dropped a piece of dark gray rock into a bowl that already had a few other ingredients in it. He murmured something in another language and the rock started to glow.

“So, that’s everything but the piece of Cas,” Sam said, looking at Dean. His eyes took in the jacket Dean held and then widened. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Dean said while Eileen looked between the brothers in confusion. Dean caught her attention and held out the jacket so she could see the bloody handprint on the shoulder. “It’s Cas’s blood.”

“Will it work?” Eileen asked, looking from Sam to the jacket and back again.

“Yeah, it’ll work,” Sam nodded then grimaced. He knew Dean wasn’t going to like what came next. “But I need a piece of it. To put in the bowl so the lodestone is tuned to Cas.”

Dean froze for a second, looking down at the handprint. It was all he had left. But, it was also the only thing that could bring Cas back. Without a word, Dean pulled out his pocketknife, pinched some of the fabric between his fingers, and sliced a piece of bloody fabric off the jacket. He handed it to Sam without looking at him, unable to bear the compassion he knew would be in Sam’s eyes.

“Do it fast,” Dean said. 

Then he got up, folded the jacket carefully, and headed into the kitchen. There, he grabbed the book then made his way back to his room. He set the jacket on the seat of the chair, patted it, and left without a backward glance. When he got back to the map room, Sam was holding the lodestone, which glowed a pleasing blue, and was signing with Eileen. They stopped their conversation when they saw Dean.

“Here,” Sam said, handing the stone to Dean. “Once you’re in the Empty, that stone should pull you to Cas. I don’t know how, the book wasn’t that specific, but it should. Actually, the book made it seem like any reader should already know, which seems kinda dumb considering people are looking for the spell and may not know everything...”

“Sam,” Dean interrupted Sam, clutching the stone tight. “I got it. The rock will help me find him.”

“Yeah, that’s the gist of it,” Sam nodded. Impulsively, he pulled Dean into a hug, which Dean returned. “Go get him back. And don’t die doing it.”

“Don’t die, got it,” Dean patted Sam’s back and pulled away. He was immediately pulled into a hug by Eileen.

“I second the not dying,” Eileen told him. “When do you want to do this?”

“No time like the present, right?” Dean said, grinning through the worry that this wouldn’t end up working in the Empty’s realm.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said and exchanged a significant glance with Eileen.

“What?” Dean asked.

“It’s just... that, well, Eileen and I might have found a case,” Sam explained, hunching his shoulders a little. “Something about home invasions and people’s tongues being cut out while the kids are abducted. The last one, the father was exsanguinated. It sounded familiar so I went back to Dad’s journal. It’s one of his old hunts.”

“So get to it,” Dean ordered, nodding decisively. “Kill the monsters.”

“We were but are you sure you want us to leave you?” Eileen asked, moving to Sam’s side. She took his arm, making them a unit. “You want us to wait until you and Cas get back?”

“Nah,” Dean shook his head. “Abducted kids, every second counts. I got this. You guys go get that.”

There was another round of hugs, and Eileen telling Dean he’d better call them this time if he needs them, before Sam and Eileen were hoisting their bags onto their shoulders and heading up the stairs. The door clanged shut behind them and Dean was left with the book and the glowing blue stone.

“You better work, buddy,” he told the stone. “Let’s go.”

He headed back to the storage room and stood in front of the wall. Practice made him adept at reading through the three repetitions of the archaic Enochian and the black rip in reality appeared. And Dean could swear that, as soon as it appeared, the stone glowed a little brighter. He put the book on the chair again and faced the rip.

“Here we go,” Dean said and walked through the rip. 

On the other side was the familiar darkness and silence. But now, there was light and a warmth in his hand. He swung the stone around until it started glowing even brighter and the warmth pulsed. Then he started sprinting, the stone held out in front of him. He had no idea how far away Cas was but he knew he had to get there before he was yanked back out.

He ran for a timeless time and the sense of being watched came back. Dean ignored it as bet he could, concentrating on the warm pulses in his hand. When he deviated from the correct route, he had to stop and reorient himself. Luckily, it never took very long. He was usually only a step or two out of true. As he ran, the warmth increased until his hand was nearly burning. Then, something new appeared ahead of him.

It looked like... a tan mass bunched on the ground. Dean’s heart caught in his throat and he managed to move even faster. He fell to his knees next to the cloth bundle on the ground. Reaching out a trembling hand, he found a shoulder and turned the body over. It was Cas, his eyes closed. Though he seemed to be dreaming, his eyes flickering back and forth behind closed eyelids.

“Cas, c’mon man, I need you to wake up,” Dean shook Cas, speaking and praying the words simultaneously. “I got us a way out of here but I need you to wake up. Please, Cas, come back with me. Come back to me.”

“He won’t wake,” a familiar, droll voice said behind Dean. “Not if I don’t want him to.”

Dean turned around to see Meg lounging on a golden throne. She held a wineglass negligently in one hand and she smiled at him. There was no humor in that smile. Dean stood slowly, keeping his hands out to show he wasn’t a threat.

“Meg?” he asked.

“Not exactly, no,” she replied, that humorless smile growing sardonic. “Though I do enjoy wearing her. So dewy.”

“You’re the Empty,” Dean said as his eyes widened. “I thought you were all... black goo and shit?”

“I am and I also look like this,” Meg shrugged and took a sip of wine. “It’s easier to talk to people if I’m wearing a person. For some reason, angels, demons, humans, what-have-you, get a little creeped out talking to, how you put it, black goo.”

“Wake him up or let him wake up or whatever,” Dean ordered but there was more than a hint of pleading in his voice. “Wake Cas up.”

“Why?” Meg asked. She glared down at the bundle at Dean’s feet. “He annoyed me. He still annoys me. Besides, our deal is done. He got what he wanted and I got what I wanted. That’s it.”

“That’s it? So, what, you just keep him like this?” Dean demanded, voice rising in anger and fear.

“Well, yes,” Meg answered. She wore an expression of surprise, like she couldn’t understand why Dean was questioning it. “Now you, however, you intrigue me. So quiet, sneaking into my realm like you did. You didn’t make it loud, past that first trip when you yelled a little. So fascinating, watching you search and search and search.”

“You were the one watching me,” Dean stated. He shook his head. Of course the Empty knew he was here the whole time. Of course. It was just his luck. “So what now?”

“Now? Now we wait until your little spell snaps you back home and you stay there,” Meg said, a thread of anger in her voice. “While Cas stays here.”

Dean swallowed down the handful of angry retorts he had to that. Yelling at Meg, or the Empty, wasn’t going to get Cas out of here. He had to be clever. He had to think. He had to outsmart or negotiate with the Empty. Cas was depending on him. Dean wracked his brain for any idea, any advantage he might have. And then he remembered the end of the story the beggar woman had told.

“You know, I read a story about you,” Dean said conversationally. He stepped one step closer to the throne but made sure to keep Cas in his peripheral vision. “It helped me find a way here.”

“Fascinating,” Meg replied dryly. But her eyes never left his face as she took another sip of wine. Then she continued, “What story?”

“The woman who told it said she was given visions by God. That God had a dark entity that helped him, kept his children in its realm when they died,” Dean said. He watched Meg’s face carefully, seeing a thread of curiosity in it.

“I’m surprised God told anyone about me and my function,” Meg said, her lips turning into a scowl before she smoothed her expression. “Go on.”

“Well, turns out, that those children could leave the entity’s realm, _if_ they made a sacrifice,” Dean said. He whispered a prayer to Cas in his head then continued, “What do you think about that?”

“I am beyond surprised,” Meg said, laughing heartily. “I never imagined God would ever let that information out of his so-superior head. Imagine if angels or demons knew they could bargain with me to leave? A better bargain than poor Castiel made. Then again, many of them wouldn’t be willing to pay the price. One I’d set.”

“So it’s true?” Dean asked, hope flaring in his chest. “Shouldn’t Cas get to make the decision if he’s willing to make the sacrifice? Why don’t you wake him up and ask him?”

For the space of ten full breaths, Meg just stared at him. She went completely still, not even appearing to breathe. Then again, did a creature like the Empty even need to breathe? She didn’t even blink as she stared and Dean shifted a little under the intensity of it. Finally, she looked away to glare down at Cas’s body.

“Fine,” she said, making a quick motion with one hand.

At Dean’s feet, Cas started to stir. He groaned lightly, one hand lifting to press against his forehead. In a moment, Dean was on his knees at his side again, helping Cas to sit up. Their eyes met and Cas’s widened in surprise and fear as he looked from Dean to Meg behind him.

“Dean, you shouldn’t be here,” Cas said urgently, sneaking another glance at Meg. “You have to get out of here.”

“Not without you,” Dean whispered, taking Cas’s hand as he helped him stand. “All right. What’s the sacrifice you’d demand so Cas can get out of here?”

“What?” Cas asked, looking from Dean to Meg and back again. “What sacrifice?”

“Well, that’s an easy answer. The only thing worth enough to an angel to leave this place,” Meg shrugged but her eyes gleamed in a way that sent shivers down Dean’s back. “His grace.”

“No, pick something else,” Dean demanded at the same time Cas asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Do you want to explain or shall I?” Meg asked, taking another sip of wine. Her eyes were darkly gleeful.

“I’ll explain it,” Dean snapped at her then turned to Cas. He caught his breath looking into Cas’s eyes, rejoicing that he was getting another chance to do so. Then, quickly and succinctly, he explained the story and the Empty’s demand.

“So I sacrifice my grace and I get to leave?” Cas asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Apparently, but she needs to pick something else,” Dean glared at Meg. “That’s too big.”

“I accept,” Cas said simply, turning to Meg. “My grace and I leave here. No strings, no deals, no way to drag me back.”

“Wait, Cas, no, you don’t have to...,” Dean started to argue but Meg cut him off.

“Done then,” she grinned and made a beckoning gesture with one hand.

Cas grunted then his mouth opened wide. Blue-white light streamed from his open mouth and his eyes, curling into a ball in Meg’s hand. It went on for a few moments then the light stopped. Cas slumped against Dean and would have fallen if Dean hadn’t wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Goodbye Castiel. I hope I never see either of you again,” Meg said before she and the throne faded away.

“Wait,” Dean said again. 

Then he felt the tugging around his middle. He held tight to Cas as the spell pulled both of them through the rip. They steadied each other as the rip closed. Then, they were standing together in the storage room, Dean’s arm around Cas’s waist and Cas’s arm around his shoulders. The last time they’d been here, Cas had confessed his love to Dean and been taken by the Empty. Dean caught his breath at the memory.

“Ah, thank you,” Cas said, a touch awkwardly as he stepped away from Dean. “For rescuing me. Thank you, Dean.”

“But... she, it, the Empty, took your grace,” Dean said, staring at Cas. He didn’t really see anything different. Though, maybe, Cas looked a little... smaller? Less bright? He wasn’t sure. He also wasn’t sure if it mattered to him. It was still Cas. “What does that mean for you?”

“It means I’m human,” Cas shrugged and a corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Which is not as bad as being trapped. So, I’ll take it as a win.”

“It is a win having you back,” Dean said, stepping closer to Cas. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too, though I suppose the question now is, what do I do?” Cas mused. He looked away from Dean but Dean thought he had to drag his eyes away. “Perhaps... perhaps I can find my own place, go on some hunts, help other hunters.”

“You mean, leave?” Dean asked, his chest tightening at the thought. “Why?”

“I don’t want to be... a burden, an awkwardness,” Cas murmured, glancing up at Dean before looking away. “When I... told you how I felt, I did not expect to come back. I know you don’t feel the same so I don’t want to impose.”

“Don’t feel the same?” Dean echoed, his mouth dropping open. “Cas, I didn’t have any time to process what you were saying at the time but how can you say I don’t feel the same? How do you know?”

“You... the way you push me away, the anger you felt towards me, just... you don’t, do you?” Cas waved his hands a little helplessly. “Besides, I’m in a male vessel.”

“That... Cas... no,” Dean shook his head at how dense they both were. Then he closed the distance between them and cupped Cas’s face. “I’m sorry. I hurt you and I’m so sorry. You can have what you want. You can have me. I love you, Cas. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

As Cas stared at him, Dean leaned forward. He kept his eyes on Cas’s, pausing when their lips were just an inch apart. But there was no denial in Cas’s eyes. Just a growing hope. So Dean closed the last distance between them and pressed his lips to Cas’s. Finally, _finally_. On a sigh, Cas’s lips opened beneath his and Dean slowly licked his way into Cas’s mouth. The kiss was warm and comfortable and thrilling, everything he’d imagined in the depths of the night when he couldn’t get Cas out of his head. When his want and need were all but prayers screaming in his head.

“I love you,” Dean repeated as they broke the kiss. He felt Cas’s lips curve into a smile against his. “You have me. You always have. As for the male vessel thing, well, I’m bi, Cas. Always have been.”

Cas snaked his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him into another kiss. They were breathless, and hands had found their way under shirts, before Dean’s phone interrupted them. 

“You should take that, it could be important,” Cas whispered, his breath feathering over Dean’s lips.

“It’s Sam,” Dean said when he looked at the display. “Trust him to interrupt. Hiya Sammy.”

“Hey, Dean,” Sam’s voice came from the phone as Dean switched it to speakerphone. “How did it go? Did you get him back?”

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said, grinning when Sam let out a whoop. “I’m back.”

“Great to hear your voice, dude,” Sam said followed by Eileen saying, “Welcome back.”

“Yeah, we’ll tell you the whole thing when you guys get back,” Dean promised, twining his fingers through Cas’s. “How’d your hunt go?”

“No problem. A small vamp nest that kept kids for later feeding,” Sam explained. “We took out the vamps and saved the kids. They’re with family now.”

“Great, see you when you get back. Burgers all around,” Dean said. “Great job.”

Dean hung up the phone and pulled Cas in for another kiss. Now that he was able to, oh he was never going to stop kissing him, every chance he got. He pulled back, cupping Cas’s face again and just staring at him.

“Welcome home, Cas,” Dean murmured. He pressed a kiss to Cas’s forehead. “I never want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” Cas promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They walked out of the room together, the book forgotten on the chair. They walked hand in hand to the kitchen, trading kisses every few steps. They laughed and talked, thrilled and relieved to be back together again. And if it took three times as long to get the burgers ready, neither was complaining.


End file.
